


Just Be With Me (I Love You More)

by mihomi98



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Deal with Billie, Friends to Lovers, Love Confessions, M/M, Pining Dean, Sad Dean, Season 13 Episode 5, Season 13 Episode 6, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 11:33:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13500918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mihomi98/pseuds/mihomi98
Summary: When Billie asks Dean what he wants, he can't help but ask for twenty-four more hours with Castiel. He just hopes that that's enough for him to admit how he feels.





	Just Be With Me (I Love You More)

_“Sorry, Winchester, I can do a lot of things, but I can’t do_ that. _Wherever your angel went, it’s out of my realm of control. If I really tried, perhaps I could bring him back for a few hours, a day, at most, but for him to come back for good? It’s never going to happen.”_

The words echoed in Dean’s mind for the millionth time in the week since Billie had brought him back to life. When she had asked him what he wanted, he didn’t even have to think about it before blurting out, “I need Cas back.”

Billie had laughed and shook her head, shooting down his wish without a second thought. Dean’s heart clenched, the minute hope that he had felt fizzling out as quickly as it had started. When he had seen Billie, he had really thought that she could make it happen. If _she_ could come back from the dead (and really, who would have expected that a reaper could have a second chance?), then why couldn’t Castiel? Surely bringing an angel back from the beyond was easier than bringing back a cosmic entity.

He leaned forward in his seat, moving his hands up to the top of the steering wheel and dropping his head onto his wrists. He breathed in his nose and out his mouth, trying to keep the tears pressing against the back of his eyes at bay, just as he had done every night since that night. Crying hadn’t done anything to help his grief in the past, and it sure as hell wouldn’t change anything for the future. He had to suck it up and get over it.

Castiel was gone, and he was _never_ coming back.

Dean took another deep breath before sitting up, running his hands over his face and shutting the impala off, pulling out the keys and stuffing them in his pocket as he got out of the car and made his way back into the bunker. He had been planning on making a grocery run, but he just didn’t have the energy for it anymore. Besides, Sam and Jack had gone off on a hunt of their own (Sam wouldn’t let Dean go on a hunt so soon after his stunt with the needles, no matter how much Dean argued that he wasn’t trying to commit suicide), so it wasn’t like he really needed to make an effort to keep the bunker stocked up. They would be gone at least five or six days (Sam had taken the Men of Letters vehicle with the best gas mileage). Surely Dean would have the energy to go shopping before they got back.

When he went inside, he paused in the kitchen before going straight to his bedroom. He popped his favorite Led Zeppelin tape into the deck and turned it up as loud as the speakers would go, collapsing onto his bed and throwing his arm over his eyes. He sighed loudly, his mind drifting back to Billie’s denial once again.

Chuck, Dean had been so stupid. Castiel had blatantly told him how he felt about him, and Dean hadn’t said anything back. Sure, part of him was furious that Castiel would leave Dean to deal with the aftermath of his confession, but the other part of him was completely terrified. Good things didn’t happen to Dean. The people he loved got hurt, and anything in his life that made him remotely happy was yanked away from him right as he was getting comfortable. He couldn’t tell Castiel that he loved him, too, just to have it all get yanked out from under him.

Then again, Dean would be lying if he said that Castiel dying without ever knowing how Dean felt wasn’t a million times worse. That was why he begged Billie for even just a day. If he got to hug Castiel again, to hold him in his arms and breathe in the unique scent that he had always associated with the angel, to kiss him even just once, he could survive. The memories would be enough to keep him going. What was that phrase, that it was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all? He had always thought that the people that said that were full of shit, but maybe, just maybe, they were right.

Dean rubbed his face again and rolled over so that he was facing the wall. He clenched his teeth and closed his eyes, thankful that all the sleepless nights he had had since that night seemed to be catching up with him, and he felt himself falling asleep within moments.

At least when he was sleeping, he could be with Castiel in his dreams.

 

***

 

Dean woke up to his phone vibrating so hard that it was shaking the entire bed. He groaned and grabbed it from next to his feet, jabbing his fingers at it until it answered the call. He lifted it to his ear and sat up slowly, reaching over and pausing the still-playing cassette. “What is it?”

The caller on the other end only spoke two sentences before disconnecting the all. “You have your twenty-four hours. Don’t fuck it up.”

Dean’s eyes shot open, and he jumped off the bed, suddenly completely awake. He shoved his phone into his pocket and ran out of his bedroom, desperately praying that Billie had sent Castiel back _home_ and not somewhere that would require a several hour drive. If Billie was telling the truth then Dean had to make every second count.

Dean raced through the bunker towards the door, his heart pounding and his mouth going dry. “Please be close, please be close, please be close,” he murmured, sliding the last few feet in his socks and bending down to grab his shoes from next to the door. He started to slide his feet into them as he yanked open the door.

When the door was open more than a few inches, however, Dean’s entire world stopped. There, standing right outside with his fist raised to knock, was Castiel.

Dean let out a sound that was somewhere in-between a whimper and a sob before diving forward, pulling Castiel into his arms and burying his face into his neck. The tears that he had been trying so hard not to let fall overwhelmed and escaped him.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel whispered, lifting his arms and hugging Dean back. He seemed to be crying, as well, the spot where his face was pressed into Dean’s shoulder dampening more and more with every second that ticked by. “I missed you.”

Dean forced a chuckle. “Buddy, missing you doesn’t even begin to crack the surface of what I’ve been feeling.” He took a deep breath and pulled out of the hug, moving his hands up to cup Castiel’s jaw and leaning their foreheads together.

Dean glanced up at Castiel through his lashes, his breath catching as green eyes met blue. Tears were dotting along Castiel’s lashes, but that combined with the tears rolling over his cheeks just managed to make the man look more beautiful. Dean couldn’t help himself; he _had_ to kiss Castiel. He had wasted far too much time, and if they only had (now) less than a day . . . he wasn’t wasting another minute. He took a deep breath and whispered, “I love you, Cas.”

He didn’t wait for a reply before he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Castiel’s, his racing heart stopped and he felt all the strength in his body rush straight down to the floor. Castiel immediately kissed back, his hand moving from Dean’s back to his neck. The tears began anew, and Dean used his thumbs to push the liquid off of Castiel’s cheeks.

After a few more soft kisses, Dean pulled back and scanned his eyes over Castiel’s body, taking stock in how he looked. He was filthy, from the dirt that covered his skin down to the bloodstains that dotted his trench coat. Dean furrowed his brows in confusion. Why would Billie return Castiel in such a state?

Castiel noticed Dean’s look, and bite his lip in shame. “I . . . well, I appear to be human again, Dean. I was—”

“It doesn’t matter, Cas,” Dean cut him off, leaning forward and kissing him again. “Let’s get you cleaned up and fed, okay? You can wear something of mine, I don’t mind.”

Castiel nodded. Dean gave him a small smile and reached down to grab his hand, interlacing their fingers and pulling Castiel the rest of the way into the bunker. As they walked down the hallway to the bathroom, however, Dean began to feel self-conscious. He wanted to shower with Castiel, both because he didn’t want to be away from him and he needed to make sure that there wasn’t any injuries that would make the end of the day come any sooner, but he knew that Castiel would _immediately_ be able to see just how badly he had taken Castiel’s death. He had barely eaten anything, there were cuts and scratches littering his arms, legs, and abdomen, and he hadn’t bothered staying up at all with his personal hygiene.

Castiel, however, didn’t seem to care as he stepped into the bathroom, allowing Dean to undress him before helping Dean out of his clothes. “You’re beautiful, Dean,” he whispered, swallowing thickly before allowing Dean to pull him into the shower.

Dean adjusted the water temperature until it was perfect, and before too long, Dean and Castiel were out and dressed in Dean’s softest sweatpants and tee shirts. Castiel sat down at the table in the kitchen, and Dean set to work on making the best breakfast he could out of the ingredients in the bunker’s freezer.

Castiel watched Dean cook for a few minutes before standing up and moving to stand next to him, leaning his back against the counter and grabbing Dean’s beer from off the counter. He took a sip before asking, “Where are Jack and Sam?”

“They’re . . . they’re out on a hunt,” Dean said, flipping the eggs as his stomach clenched uncomfortably as the selfishness of the situation hit him. He should at least call them and let _them_ talk to Castiel. Dean may have felt the loss of the angel more acutely than the other men, but they had missed out of the chance to give Castiel a proper goodbye, as well. He thought about it for a moment before pulling his phone out and holding it out to Castiel. He may not want to miss a second, but if he was getting his wish, the least he could do was share. “You can give them a call, if you want. I’m sure Jack would love hearing your voice for the first time.”

Castiel took the phone and stared at it for a second before putting the phone on the counter behind him. “I can talk to them later.” He reached over and put his hand on Dean’s lower back, his fingers tapping in small circles. “Why aren’t you with them? You don’t normally stay behind on hunts.”

Dean shook his head. “I just didn’t want to go,” he lied, grabbing a plate from the cabinet and sliding the eggs onto it. He grabbed a couple of forks from the drawer and held the plate out to Castiel, taking a bite before letting the other man eat the rest. He moved on to making bacon, the sizzling sound of the grease leaking from the meat making Dean’s mouth water. “The bacon will be ready in a few minutes.”

Castiel nodded again, silently eating his eggs. Once he had eaten more than half of them, he lowered his plate and pursed his lips, tilting his head. “There’s something you aren’t telling me.”

“No there isn’t.”

“Dean, I’m the one who gripped you and raised you from perdition. I know when you aren’t being truthful with me.” He put the plate down and moved to wrap his arms around Dean’s waist. He kissed the back of Dean’s neck before resting his cheek against Dean’s shoulder blades. “Why did you _really_ stay behind?”

Dean clenched his jaw and put moved the pan of bacon off the heat. “You aren’t going to like it.”

“Try me.” Castiel pressed another kiss against his skin. Dean hesitated before turning around, moving so that _he_ was leaning against the counter and Castiel was pressed against his chest.

Dean let out a deep breath. “I . . . ” He trailed off, closing his eyes. “I really, really missed you, Cas. I wasn’t handling your death well at all. Hell, I could barely even speak the words. I couldn’t stop kicking myself for not telling you that I love you back, after all that drama with Ramiel.” He tightened his grip on Castiel. “It took everything in me to even wake up in the morning, nonetheless to get out of bed and take care of myself. I didn’t _want_ to take care of myself.”

Castiel tried to pull back, but Dean moved a hand up to hold on to the back of his head, successfully keeping him in place. Castiel struggled against the pressure, obviously desperate to look at his friend. “Dean, you’re scaring me,” he said, his voice tight and nearly silent. “What did you do?”

Dean mumbled his answer.

Castiel sighed. “I can’t hear you, Dean.”

Dean tried again. “I committed suicide.”

Castiel jolted, and this time, he was able to pull out of Dean’s grip. His eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. “You did _what_?”

Dean didn’t answer. Castiel let out a breath through his nose before making a noise that sounded like a growl. He grabbed Dean’s hand, and this time, he was the one pulling Dean through the bunker. He led them into Dean’s room and pushed him onto the bed before crawling to sit next to him.

For just a moment, Dean could see the same angel that he had fallen so desperately in love with so many years ago. Castiel’s eyes were aglow in anger, and the glare he had fixed on Dean was intimidating enough that Dean couldn’t help but cower, his heart hurting at the realization that he very possibly could have messed up his last chance to be happy with Castiel. He didn’t know what he would do if his admission made him lose his last twenty-one hours with the fallen angel.

Fortunately, it seemed that no matter how angry Castiel was, he wasn’t going anywhere. He maneuvered their positions on the bed until they were sitting side by side. He linked their fingers, using both of his hands to wrap around one of Dean’s. “Start from the beginning. What happened?”

 

***

 

As the day dwindled on, Dean did as many of the things he had dreamed of as he could do without leaving Lebanon. He took Castiel out for lunch, he took him to feed the ducks at a local park, he made them dinner, he went down on him in the library (Castiel had always been stunning when he was wrapped in with research—the face he made when Dean surrounded him like the books surrounded them was far more than Castiel could have ever imaged), he held him as they watched old Western movies . . . it was perfect.

As the twenty-four hour mark came closer, however, Dean could quickly feel himself going downhill. Getting one last day with Castiel was everything that he wanted, but he no longer felt like “just one more day” was enough to satisfy him. Just like he knew it would, losing Castiel was so much worse when he was his.

Dean’s heart especially broke forty minutes into the last hour. Castiel and he were lying in Dean’s bed. Castiel had fallen asleep more than an hour earlier, but Dean couldn’t sleep, propping himself up on his forearm and watching the fallen angel, lightly running his fingers over Castiel’s hair and face as the tears began to fall again. “I love you so much,” he whispered, dropping down onto his side and pulling Castiel to his chest, dropping kisses all over his nose, forehead, and hairline.

Dean closed his eyes after dropping a few more kisses, trying to will himself to, finally, fall asleep. As much as he wished he could treasure the last twenty minutes he had with the love of his life, he didn’t think he would be able to handle watching Billie take him from him again. He had watched him die far too many times, and the knowledge that this would officially, _definitely_ be the very last time that he would was too much for him.

 

***

 

Surprisingly, Dean was able to fall asleep just minutes before the clock struck twelve, and when he woke up in the early afternoon, he could immediately feel that Castiel was long gone. The empty space next to him was cold, and everything in Dean felt hollow.

He rolled over towards Castiel’s spot, grabbing the pillow that he had laid on and pulled it towards his chest. Castiel’s smell assaulted his senses, and Dean immediately lost it. He screamed into the pillow before sobbing, the lump in his throat making it hard to breathe. God, how was he going to do this? He doubted Billie would let him die if he tried to kill himself again, but by Chuck did that option still sound appealing. He didn’t want to be here if Castiel wasn’t. It just wasn’t fair.

“Dean? What’s wrong?”

Dean’s eyes shot open at the words, and he stopped breathing when he saw Castiel standing in the doorway with a cup of water and a half-eaten peanut butter and jelly sandwich. His brows were furrowed and Dean’s sweatpants were hanging low on his hips, his bare feet shuffling as he stepped onto the chilly wood of Dean’s floor.

“C-Cas? Is it really you?” Dean choked out, his heart skipping beats. He struggled to sit up, his hands trembling and his eyes wide.

Castiel tilted his head, looking even more confused. “What are you talking about? Of course it’s me, Dean, who else would I be? This isn’t just a vessel anymore, remember? Jimmy’s long gone, and I swear that I’m not possessed.” He reached over and grabbed the bottle of Holy Water hanging on the hook next to Dena’s door. He pulled out the stopper and dabbed a bit on his wrist. “See? Not possessed.”

Dean watched in shock. “But . . . but . . . it’s been more than twenty-four hours. You’re supposed to be gone.”

Castiel shook his head. “What? Dean, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He glanced down at the bottle of Holy Water still in his hand before coming over and sitting down next to Dean. He hesitated before pouring a few drops onto Dean’s hand, his shoulders relaxing when there was no response. “You’re not possessed either . . . are you feeling okay?” He reached out and placed the back of his hand against Dean’s forehead. “You aren’t warm.”

“I . . . I . . . ” Dean shook his head, trying to come back into himself. He glanced down at his watch to see if, somehow, he had gotten stuck on a loop like Sam had so many years ago, but the date on the face of the watch had definitely moved forward. He looked back up at Castiel and leaned forward to kiss him lightly before responding. “How are you here?”

“I annoyed an ancient cosmic being so much that he sent me back.”

“I mean you were supposed to—wait, what?” Dean jumped, looking at Castiel. “But, Billie . . . ”

Now Castiel looked confused. “Dean, Billie’s dead. I killed her, remember? To save you, and Sam, and Mary.”

Dean shook his head. “No. She came back as the new Death—kill a reaper and they move up the totem pole. When I was in the veil, and she asked me what I wanted. I asked for twenty-four more hours with you. Didn’t you see her when she brought you back?”

“Dean, I don’t know what you think happened, but Billie didn’t bring me back. I woke up in the Empty and that caused a God, or Spirit, or _something_ to awaken, as well. I refused to go back to sleep and kept pestering him until he sent me back so some field a ways away from here—it took me over two week to get back to you, but I did it. I did it on my own, Dean. Billie had nothing to do with it.”  

 “But that means . . . ” Dean’s eyes widened. “Cas . . . are you back for good? Like . . . you aren’t dying again?”

Castiel nodded slowly. “Yes, Dean. I thought we established this yesterday.” He narrowed his eyes. “Are you sure that you’re feeling okay? You’ve gone pale, and your hands are all sweaty—”

“Marry me.”

Now Castiel’s eyes were widening. “What?”

Dean moved up to his knees and pulled Castiel’s hands onto his lap. “I’m serious, Cas. If this isn’t a dream and it isn’t because of Billie that you’re back . . .please, Cas. I don’t want to waste anymore time. I love you, and if you love me . . . fuck, Cas, I’ve wanted you basically since I met you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. It doesn’t have to be a big thing, hell, we can get Sam to forge some documents so make it legal the night that Jack and he get home, I don’t care. Please.”

Castiel only had to think about it for a moment before nodding. “Yes, Dean. I will marry you.” He smiled softly before reaching out and pulling Dean into a gentle kiss. “Besides, I’m human now. I can grow old with you. I can’t imagine anywhere else I’d rather be.”

“I love you, Cas.”

“I love you, too, Dean. Always have, always will.”

Castiel kissed Dean again before lying on his side, pulling Dean down towards him. He rolled Dean onto his side and wrapped an arm around his waist, Dean’s back pressed snuggly against Castiel’s chest. Dean sighed happily and tangled their fingers together, letting his eyes drift shut as he soaked in Castiel’s warmth.

Part of Dean was still worried that Castiel would disappear on him, but if Castiel was willing to make this relationship work, then Dean was going to fight to the very end to protect him and their relationship. Monsters didn’t stand a chance, and Dean couldn’t have been happier.

He couldn’t have asked for more.

 

 


End file.
